


Calmato, Mon Coeur

by the_pigeon



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, I have none to offer, lil character study of anime tsukiyama i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pigeon/pseuds/the_pigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little study of Tsukiyama from his point of view. I know the events are out of order but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . It only goes up to when he loses the fight at the church</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calmato, Mon Coeur

**Author's Note:**

> tell me how wrong I am

It was only a little taste. Barely enough to coat my tongue, yet more than sufficient to make me lightheaded with the marvelous perfume of his blood. If only I knew that his scent was only an appetizer, the ultimate hors-d'œuvre to what would have been the most fulfilling meal of my life. His blood is all over my hand, and I cannot remain calm.

I have been waiting for this moment for weeks, ever since I walked in that quaint coffee shop and saw him standing there, trussed up in a little waiter’s outfit, the only one with a smile on his face. His uneasiness with me was cute: he clearly wasn't used to being the center of attention, and made many faces that were, how should I put this, _très bien_  and served only to increase my appetite.

It was a delicious aroma, heady as a classic English rose but with so many facets and variations it made my heart beat faster. I could not resist leaning down for a deeper sniff. It was superior to anything I've ever seen. A truly great meal, as one of my favorite gourmet writers said, requires a fair bit of patience and time.

For example, humans age their food to give it a stronger and more refined taste. It gets better. My logic was that the more Kaneki matures and changes the tastier he will be.

I brought him to a favorite outing of mine, a remote location where the smell of coffee and books were permanently instilled in the air. On lazy afternoons, I liked to sit near the bookshelves, reading a few novels and watching the dust particles swirl around in that golden light.

It was there where he spilled his blood, his precious blood. Luckily, I had brought a handkerchief with me. The smell brought everything into a wondrous harmony, and the world was no longer boring. There was a man out there with my name on it. He was MINE. I told myself to calm down, to wait until his flavors had melded to the pinnacle of perfection.

Yet the temptation was too great. My resolve was too weak. I had to eat him. Everything tasted duller in comparison. I sought human species with an exquisite emerald green tint to their eyes-specialized vegans who limited their own diet to match that of animals-those with long dexterous fingers used to transform the old works of Beethoven and Mozart into reality. Useless, ultimately.

I brought him into my restaurant, my ghoul restaurant, to bring some amusement to my dear patrons.

Then he showed his ghoul eye, which sent me over the edge. ONE-eyed ghoul? So rare and divine, a meal enhanced with the flavor and tenderness of the human, the strength and tangible presence of a ghoul. He was mine. He belonged to no one else.

I had prepared this suit beforehand- it was white, and underwent a great transformation when soaked in blood. He was terrified. I could smell it on him. I told him it was a joke, after all, I couldn’t be serious. I was just waiting some more. He will come to me one day.

Finally, I had him cornered underneath the firm stab of my kakugan. Blood, HIS blood, ran everywhere that day. Everything was tinted pink, my senses going overdrive. It was not to last.

I lost. My arm, gone. My meal, gone. My resolve, strengthened three times over.


End file.
